


The Great Dumping Ground of Questionable Things!

by DungeonInspector



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: All The Ships, F/F, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Everything, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DungeonInspector/pseuds/DungeonInspector
Summary: A collection of rare pair smut. Anything and any pair can happen so consider yourself warned. If you choose to continue... may Togashi help you.- Open to suggestions for additional uncommon pairings.





	1. Kurapika/Pike

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, story time on this one. This started out as a response to u/pikesgirl18 on the Hunter x Hunter subreddit requesting rare pairings for Pike. So yeah... things are about to get weird. I'm so sorry internet.

Spiders, why did always have to be fucking spiders... It was the foulest thing Kurapika had seen in his life.

Pike's body was wrinkled with age, disfigured, deformed. Extra flesh had formed him into the likeness of a spider with four arms, four legs, and an enlarged abdomen capable of producing webbing. His skin, every inch of it, emitted the stench of death, suffocating Kurapika from proximity.

Pike's anus twitched and Kurapika couldn't look away. All the eye bleach in the world couldn't fix this, but he needed to see it since it was the most reliable tell for Pike's attacks.

Choked down his urge to vomit as the battle continued, Kurapika made a horrid mistake. He looked away.

With a squishy, wet sound sticky webbing shot out of Pike's rear ensnaring Kurapika.

Pike grinned; a face-splittingly awful expression. "Hehe, Now I've got you little pretty. You'll never escape my Love Shower."

There's no escaping it.

Heavy rasping breaths filled Kurapika with dread as he watched Pike draw near. Each footstep sent a shiver down his spine at the slight sound of the eight feet going scuttle-scuttle-scuttle.

"My, your such a pretty one! Maybe, I won't hand you over to Zanzan if you give me a kiss."

Mouth completely dry, red eyes burned back at Pike. Awful. Debasing. Humiliating. He'd never felt more disgusted than when their lips met.

"Let go of me," Kurapika said in a low growl as their lips parted. Placing his hand against the top of his sticky cage he tried to yank himself up and away from Pike to no avail. Instead, his hands became useless and entangled.

"No."

"If you don't let go of me, you'll be sorry," Kurapika's voice was soft and threatening, but his lithe frame was no match for the physical strength of Pike's web.

"Oh, and what are you going to do? Glare me to death?" Pike taunted him.

"You son of a bitch!" He spat as he struggled to pull his hands free.

"Keep your voice down. You're going to attract the others and then I'll have to give you to Zanzan."

"Make me!" He sneered back at Pike. "What's wrong Spidey? Can't control me? Can't keep me quiet? It must really bug the hell out of you that you can't get me to do what you want! Well, get used to it! You have no idea who your messing with…"

Pike smashed his lips hard against Kurapika's instantly silencing him. He had no clue why Kurapika's temper had lit him up, but it stirred wondrous things inside of him. His whole body tingled like bursts of electricity were running through him as a result of the look in those angry red eyes.

Kurapika began to fight him, but he the most he could do was slightly twist his body left and right in a vain wiggling attempt to dodge, his wrists were trapped in a death hold and Pike lips firmly pressed against his. He squirmed against Pike, trying his best not to surrender to the pressure of his mouth, concentrating on his rage…the fury he was feeling deep within, but that only added to the desire building between his legs.

Hot and slimy, Pike flicked the tip of his tongue against Kurapika's lips, but he refused to part them.

Grabbing Kurapika's chin, Pike forced him to look into his eyes. "Open up your mouth," he demanded.

Kurapika jerked his head out of his hand.

"I said, open up." There was a look of purpose in his eyes, but Kurapika was not giving in. "Now," he ordered.

"Fuck you."

"My thoughts exactly."

Face twisting in disgust, Kurapika gave his head one hard shake, refusing him entry to his lips.

Grasping Kurapika's hair, Pike pulled him forward. "Fine, we'll do this the hard way then."

Mouth opening in surprise at the sudden force, Kurapika yelped.

Pike immediately plunged his tongue deep into Kurapika's mouth and ground his hips into him. The bristles of his spider-like abdomen rubbed against Kurapika's lower stomach, thighs, and crotch providing a source of friction that left Kurapika's skin crawling. He needed more, but he also wanted to get as far away as humanly possible.

Kurapika was pushed his tongue against Pike's, forcing it out of his mouth. There was only one way left to fight back and damn it he was going to win. This was a battle between their mouths.

A moan escaped Pike as Kurapika dominated the kiss. The combination of Kurapika's persistent kiss and the pressure of his erection against his abdomen was thrilling, erotic. Two of his hands slid along Kurapika's chest. Finding the clasps, he peeled off the top of his traditional robe. Finding what was more or less a shirt underneath, he had to use a bit more force to rip the clothing off.

A flash of panic shot through Kurapika's eyes before they burned even brighter. Defiance in his tone, Kurapika said, "You have one last chance. Let me go this instant or I will kill you, I swear it."

Leaning close Pike licked along the sweet, sweating, shivering skin. He ran his tongue along the crook of Kurapika's neck, danced his fingertips down his ribcage…up, down and stopping around his hips. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Kurapika's pants and skirt. With a tug, they slid down revealing a lacy red thong. The red was striking against his pale skin and it matched perfectly with his eyes. "Beautiful."

Standing there, ensnare, helpless with his bulge on display, it was humiliating. Kurapika took several shaky, deep breaths.

Pike pressed his lips against Kurapika's ear, "Say you want me to suck your dick." He felt a tremor run through the hot skin beneath his hand as the words came out.

"I want you to suck my dick, bastard."

Satisfied, Pike chuckled and slapped a hand against Kurapika's ass. "Now there's a good boy."

Quickly untying the slender knots that stood between him and his prize, Pike freed Kurapika from his thong. Taking the engorged length into his mouth, he twirled his tongue around the mushroom-like head in a circle. He flicked the tip of it with his tongue.

Barely recognizing his own voice, Kurapika gave a low hiss as he said, "fuck."

Opening his mouth, Pike blew a puff of air out onto Kurapika. A sloppy kiss was placed onto the tip before Pike moved away from it. His hand wrapped around the length, sliding up and down the slick velveting skin before squeezing. He stroked him harshly and Kurapika bite his tongue to hold back a moan as a jolt of lust shot through him.

Stopping, Pike curled up to lift his abdomen closer to Kurapika. He guided Kurapika's swelling erection inside.

It was warm, wet, and wrong.

Not expecting the new sensation, Kurapika bucked against him. His breath came out in short little huffs as he thrust his hips in and out. Grunts, groans, and curses flew from his mouth as he moved with a harsh animalistic pace. Rabid and wild, he unleashed upon Pike the fervor that he'd never felt before. He was pulsing and panting. It wasn't long before the hot tunnel he'd been pushing himself into began to quiver and contract around him. A low grunt followed by a choking gasp signified the end as he went boneless, his hips occasionally twitching he he released every last bit into Pike.

The webbing vanished.

He fell onto all fours and vomited at a violent pace, hard and fast - just like their fucking. He choked on some of it.

Arms, hard from being an exoskeleton rather than skin, encircled him and picked him up. "Yes, yes, I'm is definitely keeping you for myself."

Flung limply over the Spiders back, Kurapika cursed as he was dragged deeper into the Ant's layer unsure if he would ever see the outside again.


	2. Machi/Bonolenov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the wonderful u/wiseoldtabbycart, your ms paint art is a true inspiration to us all.
> 
> Merry Christmas and may the smut be with you.

Bandages unwrapped from his body, the thin strips laid at Bonolenov's side as he rested on top of the examination table. Meteor City didn't have an official hospital, but a large old building with scavenged medical supplies worked well enough to keep some of the sick and injured alive.

Hovering over him was Machi. For a five million Jenny she'd just reattached his left arm. Job completed she twirled her needle in her hand, a bad habit, but it helped her think. She flinched as her needle slipped digging the skin of her finger. "Shit."

Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist. A small droplet of blood pooled from the injury under his watchful eyes.

Her blood thrummed in her veins as his gaze appraised her. The small cut burned slightly and she burned a lot, growing hotter the longer his breath softly danced on her fingertips.

"'Tis only a scratch. It should not hamper you at all," he said. Pushing himself up into a seated position, he paused. Their eyes met - dark, dilated, dangerous. His lips crashed against hers with an abruptness that caught her off guard.

Her lips curved into a wry smile as she saw a slight hint of nervousness in his eyes. People for Meteor City didn't have love or families, but that didn't mean they were robots. Re-closing the distance she touched her lips to his. Shoulders dropping as he relaxed into the kiss, he tongued her bottom lip gently and she opened her mouth.

Leaning back, he brought his lips less than an inch from her own, he tilted his head to the side and left a warm trail of kisses down her neck. He suckled for just a moment, before releasing her skin with a wet _plop_ , and continued on down to her collar bone. Hands sliding into her Kimono-like top, he slid the material to the sides exposing her breasts.

His mouth latched on to her breast, tongue swirling around her nippled. It popped free as her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back until her was once again laid flat. Climbing onto the table, Machi straddled him.

Mouth opening in confusion, Bonolenov's eyes widened. "Wha-"

Pressing a finger against his lips, she silenced him. "I just treated you stupid, no heavy activity - doctor's orders."

Pressing her body down against his, she could feel him, hard, against her leg. Shifting her hips, she spreads her knees. The position was awkward as she was half sitting and half sprawled over his chest, but when she rubs against him just right... She lets out a soft whine as his covered hardness slides against her clit. Her hands ran down his chest, fingers tracing the along the holes his family had left in his body. He liked the sound they produced, but he loved the soft moans and whimpers she was making even more. Music.

His hands slide down from her hips until they grasp her ass, squeezing appreciatively in excitement.

Pausing she lifted herself up slightly, gesturing down to his shorts with a nod of her head. "Do you want them off? Or..."

He lifted his hips. Her body hummed with energy, her hands dipped into his boxering shorts and pushed down until his heavy cock was exposed in her hands. Glancing at her own shorts he looked at her questioningly. A slight nod later, he slid her shorts down allowing them to pool at their ankles with his own. A few awkward shoves of his foot and they were both free.

She smoothly lined him up with her entrance and pushed her hips until he was flush against her. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she known there would be a bruise the next day. Connected, she began to rock forward and back.

Their sounds filled the makeshift office, groans and moans mixing with the wet slapping of skin as her body repeatedly took him within her. Bracing against the examination table, his hands turned white as they curled around the edges. Bonolenov pushed forward into each movement matching of her thrusts, desperate to feel himself fully inside her.

Slipping a hand between their bodies, Bonolenov rolled her clit around with his thumb. A slight chuckle came from him as it poked into the hole in the digit. Riding him and his hand, Machi's inner muscles clenched tighter and tighter. His fingers circled her clit harder, his body followed along as she picked up the tempo.

His hips jerk harshly into her own as he strains with his orgasm. She can feel him inside her, pulsing along with her own muscle spasms, as he lets his release overtake him. So close, but not quite there she pushed forward as fast as she could before he grew too soft. She was wet and trembling and blinking fast and breathing faster and-and-and—

Her body shivered and her hips ceased rocking. For a fluttering second, everything was fast as her heartbeat.

Sliding off him, Machi stood on shaky legs. Without so much as a glance at him, she located her shorts, redressed, and fixed her top. She turned her back to him and walked to the doorway. "Thanks for the bonus, but I still want that 5 million for the arm in my account by tomorrow."


	3. Hisoka/FemPitou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hisoka/FemPitou by the suggestion of u/Eva_Vog.
> 
> Honestly, the presence of Hisoka in a story should be a warning in of itself. Safe and sane (at the very least) are automatically gone right off the bat.

Ooohhh, All the hassle of a trip to the NGL had been so, so worth it. Large and spread out, the irregular En took the form of writhing tendrils. Licking his lips Hisoka's anticipation of battle grew. That sweet power, he'd overcome it - bend it, break it, and make it beg.

A cold wind blew, chilled by another creature's bloodlust. Something was wrong, he ducked.

Within an inch of his body flew a monstrous ballerina with strings connecting its fingertips to Neferpitou's body like a marionette. Missing his head, Pitou landed behind him, just out of melee distance.

"Hello, Kitty. My, aren't you a strong one!"

Pitou's fangs poked over her bottom lip as she grinned. "Um-hum, I think I'm very strong."

This was fact, there was no need for opinion in what was to naturally be expected. Born to guard the king, she was chosen to be strong. Her muscles were powerful, and she was unbelievably agile.

Hisoka's tone was light, but there was an edge to his voice as he said, "Don't take your eyes off me, now."

"Why not? Your just a little mouse and I'm the cat."

"A mouse you may see," said Hisoka, a card - the Joker - appearing in his hand. With a slight flick of his hand, he then held the King of Aces. "but I'm the magician - master of the show."

"I'd love to play, you look like you might actually survive for awhile. Unfortunately, I have to kill you for the King."

Neferpitou's arms swelled as her puppet master, Terpsichora, enhanced her body. She slashed with her claws.

He grabbed her wrist only to quickly release it and twist his wrist in a circular motion.

Narrowing her focus, she could see the faint light around her wrists. So that was it, he'd bound her. Grunting she tried to pry her hands apart. "What's this?!"

"My Nen has both the abilities of rubber and glue," he replied. Turning his hips, he punched her stomach. Once. Twice. He was burying punches, over and over again. Flesh caved in and crunched beneath his assault - oh, yes.

Sharp, hot, throbbing, something was wrong with her stomach. It hurt. The realization was sudden, this was what pain felt like. How could Hisoka have done this to her? Pitou's face burned. An animal snarl clawed its way up her throat. "I'm going to kill you." She lunged, swinging. He sidestepped the attack.

Hip jutted out, Hisoka said, "Schwing and a miss."

The next strike stayed on target.

Hisoka caught the blow. High heels left long scar marks in the dirt as Hisoka was pushed back.

He lost his footing. Pitou saw the opening.

Bungee Gum spread in a net between his hands he prepared to bounce her back if she pounced. He hadn't expected Pitou to grab him by the shoulders and force him onto his back.

The fall was broken by him quickly spreading his hands. Flat on his back with Pitou snarling above him, Hisoka smirked, "If you wanna fuck me, I won't say no."

He moved to cup her breasts, but was slapped away as Pitou spat out a furious hiss. "What are you doing, fight me!"

"Now that I have a lovely assistant, I'm starting a private show - just for you and me." He pressed the palm of his hand flat against her lower stomach and then slid it lower, to cup her roughly. "For my first magic trick, I'm going to set you ablaze."

Gasping, she shivered above him. Excitement shot through her veins. This was something new, something besides the thrill of the hunt. More, whatever it was she needed more.

He paused and she protested with a low growl. Hands finding the buttons of her shorts, he quickly opened them and pulled the clothing down to her thighs. Running over the sensitive skin, he returned his hand to her folds.

As his finger slipped inside, Pitou arched her back off the ground. Her eyes almost roll to the back of her head as they flutter closed.

"Watch me now," he commanded, biting down on her earlobe with his teeth.

Dazed, her eyes fluttered open to meet his sly gaze.

He chuckled, "Do I make you wet? It's all about the right touch."

He started pumping two fingers in and out of Pitou as his thumb found her clit. With each thrust of his fingers, the knot inside her grew tighter and tighter until she was purring with pleasure.

Withdrawing his fingers, he grabbed onto her sides and rolled them over. He looked down at Pitou as she laid on the ground under him.

Pitou's legs were spread wide before him, his cock actually jumped as he hungrily observed the sight. Taking himself in hand, he lined himself up and began to push inside. He licked his lips as his hips were pressed flush to hers, his face mere inches away.

She sat up on her elbows and snarled, warm breath fanning his face. "Move!"

Hisoka dug his nails into Pitou's hips, surely breaking the skin. Clawing each other they each drew thin lines of blood from shallow cuts - along her hips, along his back. His thrusts were hard and deep, violent as he stabbed himself into her body. This was pure, simple, angry fucking.

Pitou winced when a stray rock scraped over her exposed skin as his frantic thrusts forced her to slide forward along the ground. She heard him growl raspy exhalations of "Fuck" against her throat, her jaw, her shoulder. Every time she clenched around his cock, he nearly roared the word. Her claws dug into the hard muscles of his back to spur him onward.

Air caught in her throat as she gasped, her inner walls contracted desperate to keep Hisoka inside.

Hisoka pulled out of her quivering body.

Every one of Pitou's limbs felt heavy and useless, so when he forced her onto her hands and knees, they trembled from the effort of having to hold her up. Pert ass on full display, she mewled her protest. Wiggling it back against him, she pressed against his hard cock.

"Don't rush. The show isn't over until I make you see stars."

Raising himself up, he slipped back inside from behind her. His hips pushing roughly into her backside. Going faster, his grunts were getting louder and more out of control. She broke apart. Like a marionette with its strings cut her body went limp against him.

His breathing was ragged as a few furious pumps later he joined her. Her insides still clenching around him as he spewed into her.

Collapsing, he slipped out of her and rolled over onto his side. They laid side by side painting in the dirt, surrounded by the trees, trying to catch their breath.

Hisoka had a mischievous smirk, and pretty self-satisfied, look in his eyes as he pulled his pants back up. "My magic act is fun, isn't it?"

"Fun is one way to put it," said Pitou, joining their lips in a kiss.

Her curiosity had caused a complete dereliction of guard duty. But she'd discovered what lust was. It was incredibly hot and kind of wrong, but in all the right ways.


	4. Kurapika/Feitan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of bloodplay here. Kurapika/Feitan, thanks for the suggestion bookisland! This one's a bit different since I wanted to experiment with a wrapping story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feitan should come with a warning: go Guro or go home. He's reading a Trevor Brown (a Guro Loli artist) book during the Yorknew arc for goodness sake.

There was a soft glow in the dark bedroom as Kurapika used his Holy Chain again.

He'd failed to defeat Chrollo, failed to avenge his people, and worst of all agreed to become a Spider in exchange for aid in collecting his people eyes. With a low moan, he ran his fingers across the cuts on his chest smearing the blood.

He deserved this.

He needed punishment.

Feitan was the torturer. Kurapika was his beautiful, blonde little pet.

They were a match made in hell.

With a knife in hand, Feitan trimmed his skin reshaping him into art. Tainted innocence as the would-be hero was wrapped in chains of hatred and decorated by sin and blood. He admired how Kurapika's muscles tensed each time the blade touched his skin, tested their restraints, then softened - surrendered. The blood beaded and trickled down his chest down to his hips and thighs. Leaning down, he followed the incisions with his tongue, not letting a drop go to waste.

Kurapika's flesh twitched under Feitan's warm tongue. Leaving a long swirling trail of blood and saliva, he stopped and chuckled. Many people were caught off guard by how hot bodily fluids are. It's was a thing he always found amusing.

Licking up Kurapika's chest to under his throat, he paused to suck the skin. There was a wet pop as he released it from his lips. Continuing upwards, he said, "Now I return the pain. Taste your blood."

Their mouths crashed together. Pressed together blood smeared over their chests, hips, and thighs.

Feitan pulled away, his hands slick and sticky he caressed the pale skin of Kurapika's cheek.

Turning his head, Kurapika planted butterfly kisses along Feitan's fingertips. He took a finger into his mouth, sweet and metallic with his blood. His eyes closed, savoring the sick metal taste as if he'd never taste it again.

It was a strange experiment, tasting his own blood.

The results were... unexpected.

Delicious.

Red eyes glowed back at Feitan, haunted by images of people who'd been tortured, mutilated, and drained of all their blood. The Troupe's victims. Had they tasted just as sweet?

Their murderer, Feitan, had the last survivor in his arms. He still liked those eyes, and what he liked he took.

Lips bright red with blood he whispered, "your mine..."

Feitan trailed strong fingers up Kurapika's arms from his hands to his chest drawing five lines in red. Kurapika touched his hands to his chest.

On his quest for vengeance, Kurapika had stained his hands with blood and until his body ran dry of the substance he'd always be impure. "Punish me."

This was his purgatory - cut the skin and slice the sin.

There was a soft glow in the dark bedroom as Kurapika used his Holy Chain again.


	5. Kurapika/Pariston

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika/Pariston a new guilty pleasure of mine.
> 
> Pariston should come with a warning. He destroys what he loves. Nothing is safe or consensual when it comes to murder. Sane is probably off the table too.

Pariston tossed a stapler marked “property of Cheadle Yorkshire” into a box as he cleaned out his office. Without Netero the Hunter Association wasn't interesting. His lips pulled into a cruel smirk for a moment before slipping back into his easy-going smile. The winner of the recent election, he was a monster with eyes that saw all and a heart that felt nothing.

He wanted to laugh in the face of the people who voted for him. They didn't know the sin they committed by associating with him. They didn't know that when they smiled at him with their white teeth and brilliant admiration, they were only summoning the devil. They didn't know that when they patted his back or shook his hand, they succumbed to his temptation and gave in to the need.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the door broke him out of his thoughts. In the doorway was a young man he didn't recognize.

A _pretty_ young man.

He had thick golden hair, a lean build, and a well-fitted suit – a fashionable man's symbol of power. His eyes were narrowed into a cold gaze. “This is my office.”

An amused grin formed on Pariston's lips. Not a day passed his official resignation and Cheadle had already replaced him with a new Rat. He could make him “disappear” if he wanted. It was always fun to watch Cheadle's face flush red with frustration and Mizastrom would be furious to have another “missing” hunter. But there was nothing special, nothing _intimate_ , about wonton destruction.

He would hurt him, break him, ruin him. It was the destiny of pretty things to be thoroughly broken. But only because he loved them.

“Oh, how wonderful! If you come across anything you want to ask me about or tell me while moving in feel free to do so. Any problems you may have we can work out before I leave. You'll have to excuse me, your name seems to have slipped my mind...”

“Kurapika.”

Repeating the word with a smile, Pariston tested it on his lips. It was new and exotic, a fitting name. The idea of breaking a beautiful toy sent a thrill up his spine and his blood lust seeped out filling the room with an unnatural chill.

There was no crying or shaking like most of the others had when they felt his intent to kill. He didn't look like prey. There was a look in his eyes that Pariston recognized: this was a survivor.

Kurapika tilted his head a little and leaned against the doorway, a sure sign that he is not going to leave. “I have work to do. Please clear out quickly.”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to know my successor is so interesting and-”

“And I have no interest in finding out,” said Kurapika as he walked passed Pariston over to the desk. His hand slammed down on it. “Leave. ”

“...I think I'd like to play with you. A word of caution, I play for keeps.”

A step forward, Pariston's shoe click against the floor.

Another step.

Chains materializing around Kurapika's hand as he held out his clenched fist in warning. “If you challenge me, don't expect to win.”

Faster than expected, Pariston darted towards him.

Kurapika jolted back, stopping as his legs hit the desk behind him. Eyes wide he watched as his chained hand was knocked to the side leaving his torso exposed. An opening Pariston eagerly took advantage of, moving into the space he pressed them together. Kurapika's body was petite compared to his own, but the muscles were defined, sleek.

Warm lips crashed down on Kurapika's silencing his gasp of surprise as their bodies met. Like electricity, a tingling feeling shot through him filled with temptation, insinuation, and promise. He jerked his head to the side to break the kiss. However, the sweet taste of hatred and sin remained on his lips.

"Game on little mouse," Pariston whispered huskily, his breath like a flame against Kurapika's face and his neck. Pariston's head dipped lower and Kurapika froze instantly as warm lips planted themselves on his neck. Hot and wet kisses trailed down the pale skin as he continued, “Game on.”

Kurapika bared his teeth at him. “How dare you.”

Glowing red, the shade of his eyes reflected and amplified his emotions.

Pariston gently ran his thumb under one of Kurapika's eyes. “So expressive.”

They were an open window into a soul that was in constant flux. How many hues were there? Which was the most beautiful? What produced each one? This was the first live set he'd ever seen. Mesmerized he started into their swirling depth enjoying the subtle shifts in the color.

With a smile a little too wide and his eyes far too sharp, Pariston said, “When I love something, it makes me want to destroy it."

Roughly, Pariston pushed on Kurapika's shoulder forcing him to turn over. He moved forward pushing Kurapika down onto the desk.

Kurapika bent at the waist. He grunted as his chest hit the hard wood of the desk. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn't brace himself and was forced to press his cheek on the desk as Pariston leaned over him. “Get off!”

Experienced fingers worked at his belt. Buckle undone, his pants and boxers were stripped away with forceful haste.

A gentle palm touched the bare skin, plump and soft. Playful fingers trailed over Kurapika's ass before squeezing.

The first slaps were light, merely taps, and teases. Pariston alternated between the cheeks, each strike sharper, harder, and faster than the one before it.

Kurapika's body shivered as every touch sent a surge of pleasure up his spine. Mind hazy with lust, he was filled with burning fire he couldn't extinguish. The slapping of flesh on flesh was replaced by low whimpers. Desperate to keep his high, he arched his back grinding his rear against Pariston's clothed hardness.

There was a small click as Pariston opened the travel sized bottle of lube from his pocket. It was something he always kept on hand as he was as confident he could worm his way into people's bodies as he was their minds and souls.

Dropping his pants, he freed himself. His cock strained upward, hard and aching and he took it in hand to stroke it. While he rubbed his throbbing member, his other hand slowly slid a finger into Kurapika.

The unexplored muscles tightened around Pariston's finger.

Writhing and twisting, Kurapika alternated between pushing himself onto the digit and grinding his hips against the desk. Panting he moved faster as a second and then a third finger were added. A frustrated groan came from him as Pariston withdrew his hand.

Leaning down to kiss the top of Kurapika's head, Pariston said, “Good boy. As a reward, I'll make sure to take your breath away.”

Pariston's hand slipped around to the front of Kurapika's neck. He marveled at how hard Kurapika's heart thrummed in the throats under his hand—how, if he just squeezed a little tighter, the pulses would flutter weakly. With one squeeze the Kuruta clan could be extinguished. Those beautiful eyes gone with the memory of their heated gaze his and his alone.

Using his other hand he lined himself up. His hips rolled against Kurapika's rear he pushed inside slightly, then slid out, ebbing in and out little by little as Kurapika's body fought him the entire wall. Victory was his as his hips eventually became flush with Kurapika's bottom. Groaning at the feeling of the tightness around his member, his head fell into the crook of Kurapika's neck.

Sweat dripped off his face into Kurapika's hair as with a heaving chest he began to move. Nose grazing the back of Kurapika's neck ever so softly, his tongue follows it lead, hot and wet, as he plunged in and out.

Dull thuds fill the office along with panting, moaning, and the slapping of flesh as each thrust forward ground Kurapika against the desk.

Nails scraping into the wood, Kurapika tried to grasp on to any lifeline he could as he was lost in the sea of passion and madness. But all he found was the oddly husky sound of his own voice pleading for Pariston to move faster, harder, to give him more.

Jerking forward against the desk, a low moan hitched in Kurapika's throat as he spilled out.

As quivering walls fluttered around his cock, Pariston picked up his pace. Slamming in hot and hard he grunted into soft golden hair as he exploded.

Breathless and sweaty Kurapika didn't respond as Pariston gave one last pulse inside him before pulling out.

Hovering over Kurapika until he caught his breath, Pariston laughed. Clothing rustled as he pulled his pants back up from around his ankles. “Well enjoy the office, it's your desk now.”

Frowning slightly in confusion, Kurapika looked down at his new desk. Semen was smeared along the front and dripped down onto the floor. It was a complete mess. His mess.

Deep, dark, and dangerous, his red gaze was filled with hatred. “I'm going to destroy you.”

Pariston chuckled as he grabbed his box and left Kurapika behind half naked and screaming. He was looking forward to it, the day cold fingers clawed at him and clasped around his throat. Those red eyes shinning with desire as they stared at him.

Only by being hated could he feel loved.

Their game had only just begun.

 

 


End file.
